


Almost.

by C_AND_B



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 09:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9542339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_AND_B/pseuds/C_AND_B
Summary: "The need to kiss Kara Danvers was a passive one, a consistent one, an unavoidable thing - she had enough boys following her around like lost puppies for that much to be evident (although, now Lena had found herself as one of those lost puppies, so perhaps it was a little hypocritical to be so judgemental)."Times Lena wants to kiss Kara but chickens out (and the time it finally happens).





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it's not shit.
> 
> Enjoy.

It’s not her fault. It should always be noted that it’s not her fault, and that, since it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t exactly be blamed for it. She just couldn’t help it. How could anyone help it? The need to kiss Kara Danvers was a passive one, a consistent one, an unavoidable thing - she had enough boys following her around like lost puppies for that much to be evident (although, now Lena had found herself as one of those lost puppies, so perhaps it was a little hypocritical to be so judgemental).

She should have expected it really. It was rather inevitable. The first time she met Kara she had spent far more time thinking about how pretty the nervous reporter was, than she did trying to work out  a way to convince Clark Kent she wasn’t like Lex, that she was her own person, that she wouldn’t make the same mistakes that he did.

In her defence there was something oddly charming about the timid way she readjusted her glasses, and the way she fumbled over herself to explain her presence. There was also something more. A strange sort of understanding that passed through them both when Kara said she understood what it was like to want to make a name for yourself outside of your family. Lena had started to realise then that maybe Kara Danvers wasn’t just a pretty girl with a febrile demeanour and that realisation was dangerous.

The second time they met she had found herself confiding more than she usually would. Lena found herself wanting to prove that she was different, not only to National City, but to Kara, which was something that she realised was ridiculous seeing as she barely knew the girl, but then explosions started and suddenly ignoring the feelings blooming in her chest wasn’t so hard.

The third time was when she realised she was screwed. The third time was when she realised that she wasn’t going to be able to pull herself out of it as easily as she thought - as she’d hoped. She was hypnotised. Addicted. Stupid. She was telling Kara that she hoped it wasn’t the last time they talked (translation: I want to see you again) and then suddenly they were talking all the time. Kara started bringing her lunch at work, and sending her cute texts throughout the day that were smothered with colourful emojis, and was somehow always the one sent to interview Lena and she was all in.

Lena was all in before she even had a chance to try and stop it.

So Lena had an almost ridiculous crush on Kara Danvers (the kind of crush she hadn’t had since her early boarding school days) and she wanted to kiss her. A lot. She also almost brought herself to kiss her. A lot. She never does. Not because she has restraint, or willpower, or some other form of self control. No. Lena Luthor was the CEO of a major company; she made a man cry in the office the other day, and yet, whenever she gets close to actually kissing Kara she freaks out, or runs, or freaks out and then runs. Mostly the latter. It’s absurd, and honestly, Lena is getting ludicrously scared that Kara might begin to work it out because she knows all her subtlety goes completely out the window when Kara is around.

That’s how she ended up here. Here being Kara’s apartment, preparing herself to watch a two hour long musical that she was undoubtedly going to hate, because Kara insisted she had to watch it before she died and she couldn’t say no. In fact, she did not just say yes, she practically jumped at the chance to bore herself to death as long as Kara was by her side. It was almost embarrassing (in truth, there was no almost about it, it _was_ embarrassing).

“I can’t believe you’ve honestly never seen Grease.”

“I can’t believe it either.” She could believe it. She could definitely believe it because she had actively avoided watching it for years. What she actually couldn’t believe was how many snacks Kara had come back with. Usually when someone says ‘ _oh I’ve got snacks_ ’ they mean they have a bowl of popcorn or some chips, not I’ve got two bowls of popcorn, three bags of chips and both the chocolate and peanut m&m’s.

“I didn’t eat much today,” Kara says self consciously and Lena quickly realises she must have been staring. She can’t claim she wasn’t. She was definitely staring. Although it wasn’t in judgement, it was more of a _where the hell do you put all of that because you took off your sweater ten minutes ago and your shirt is too tight for my tiny gay heart to handle._ “Also we’ve never had a movie night before and I usually know what flavours people like, but I didn’t know about you, and what if I got salted and salt and vinegar was more your thing or I-“

Lena stops Kara mumbling with a soft reach for her hand. Kara halts the moment their skin touches. Lena halts too before she realises she should say something, before she realises that silently staring into your friends eyes probably isn’t considered a friend move.

“Any flavour is fine. I will take those peanut m&m’s though.” She leans in conspiratorially for the next part, whispering against the shell of Kara’s ear, “They’re my kryptonite.” Lena smirks as Kara laughs awkwardly and leans away slightly. She notes that the reporter has turned a few shades darker at the comment, that she’s fiddling with her fingers and giving everything she has to avoid looking Lena directly in the eye. She fails. Multiple times. Lena is slightly more interested in the times her eyes fall on her lips however.

That’s the first time she really wants to kiss Kara Danvers.

As she fiddles with her glasses, and turns her attention to the TV, Lena is struck by the need. She supposes it was always there. The knowledge that she would find it pleasant to kiss Kara had been present since she found herself stealing glances and finally liking the image of herself that someone wrote on a page. But this. This wasn’t passive. This wasn’t just an idea. This was a tug in her chest, and a pounding heart reverberating through her stomach, and hands itching to gently pull Kara’s face to hers, lips aching to just _see_ , to just _feel_.

She doesn’t kiss her.

Lena doesn’t kiss Kara because she’s her only friend in National City, and Lena knows she could use a friend in this world. She thinks she can settle for the way Kara laces their fingers together ten minutes into the movie with a smile and a squeeze.

Maybe next time.

* * *

 

It gets worse.

She didn’t think it could get worse but apparently Kara is the nicest person to ever exist. She also apparently has some insane kind of sixth sense that tells her when Lena was having a moment (or twenty) of self doubt. That is to say that whenever she doubted a project, or was worried about investors and public image, or just really needed to eat a pint of ice cream without judgement, Kara was there with a smile, and a hug, and an ineffable warmth that never failed to make Lena feel better.

It’s her birthday.

She hates her birthday. She has hated her birthday ever since she was adopted into the Luthor family. Lex had always tried to make her enjoy them in the beginning, but no amount of secret presents and promises that things would look up, could make her feel better about the sheer disdain in Lillian’s eyes, or the parade she was put through every year as they all pretended life was far happier behind closed doors than it was.

But Lena got good at pretending. If she was going to be paraded around than it would be the best damn parade you had ever seen. If Lillian was going to put on her best smile and act like she didn’t resent Lena’s existence, then Lena was going to smile just that little bit wider and mimic the quiet resentment with all she had.

Birthdays had become just another day.

Until today.

Today when it was her birthday. Her very first birthday well and truly alone with both her brother and mother in jail now. Three hours into sitting at her desk, and diligently ignoring the date on the calendar, brought about the realisation that she missed the parade. She missed the games. She missed the act. She missed forgetting how sad she was and burying it under bitterness and the petty need to show Lillian up. Now she had shown Lillian up big time, _the biggest of times_ , and her birthday had become a reminder of things she much preferred to keep buried under a facade of half truths and stoic actions.

It was a little after one when it happened. She’s almost embarrassed to say that she jumped a little when the lights went out. But, in her defence, her family did seem to be systematically attempting to murder her so a little bit of paranoia was warranted.

She doesn’t expect Kara (and if that isn’t some extended metaphor for the rest of her life currently she doesn’t know what is). She definitely doesn’t expect Kara singing. With a birthday cake. Kara is singing her happy birthday and she has a cake, with candles, and she’s Kara. Kara with a cake. She can’t remember the last time someone actually bought her a cake.

“Happy Birthday, Lena!” She shouts when she’s done shifting some of Lena’s papers so that she can set the cake down in front of her. It’s red velvet. Her favourite. Kara got her a cake, and it’s her favourite, and she really needs to calm down because she is honestly freaking out about some food colouring and frosting.

Kara’s also talking again and Lena should maybe be listening instead of silently admiring a lopsided masterpiece - _her lopsided masterpiece_.

“...so I love that you’re in awe of the cake, made it myself and all, but could you maybe blow the candles out quicker because, I know you’re the big bad boss, but Jess was glaring really hard at me when I was coming in here muttering about fire codes and the safety hazards of walking with open flames in a dark room and honestly she scares me a little.”

Lena blows them out in one fell swoop. The clap she receives from Kara is bordering ridiculous but she grins proudly anyway as the reporter pulls some paper plates from her bag... and a knife. Maybe she should get Jess to glare at Kara more about health and safety since she was obviously making such risky choices.

“How did you...?” Lena trails off.

“Know your birthday?” Kara fills in, her smile turning soft when Lena just nods her head, too dumbfounded to properly voice her own thoughts. “Oh, it took some digging, _believe_ me. Did you know you have like three fake birthdays going around? It’s crazy. Anyways, I somehow managed to deduce the actual day, so here I am. Oh! I got you something too.”

“You got me a present?” Lena hopes that Kara doesn’t notice the tremble in her tone, or the shaky way her words tumble from her tongue. She hopes the awe in her eyes when a present is slid her way isn’t too evident. She hopes she doesn’t look too much like a child having their first Christmas.

(She kind of feels like that though).

 “Well, duh, it’s your birthday.” So simple. Kara laughs like it’s obvious, like it shouldn’t even be questioned that she showed up out of the blue with a present for Lena, that she even took the time to learn when Lena’s birthday was in the first place.

To Lena it feels like the biggest deal in the world.

“I-I... Thank you, Kara.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet. You could hate it.” Lena is shaking her head before Kara has even finished talking. She’ll love whatever it is. She’s allergic to blueberries but you can bet your life that if Kara got her blueberries she’d be eating them until her throat closed up.

Luckily she doesn’t have to risk it. When she finally unwraps the present, after going as slow as she possibly could, both to preserve the paper and annoy Kara as much as she possible, she finds a red scarf neatly folded in the box. It’s so... unpretentious, and normal, and soft, and as stupid as it may sound with all she was given growing up, she thinks it could be the best present she’s ever gotten (maybe partially because it comes with a nervous Kara Danvers picking at her nails with a cautious look like she’s awaiting a verdict at court).

“You probably hate it. You don’t have to wear it. It’s just that I noticed it was getting cold out and you don’t have a scarf, or maybe you do, and I just haven’t seen you wearing it because we’re obviously not together all the time, and you probably have a lot of outfits that I don’t know about s-“

“Kara, breathe, I love it.”

(It’s officially the second best present she’s got.

Kara’s beaming smile wins top place by a landslide).

“You do?”

“I do,” Lena says resolutely and, before she can even question it, she’s wrapping the scarf around her neck snugly, and sending her own smile back Kara’s way when she’s happy with the final result. Kara laughs wildly at the action, watching Lena with what she might even label fondness. It makes her feel warm. It brings back a feeling that she was trying so hard to push down. It makes her wonder if the shine on Kara’s lips is that new peach lip gloss she had been raving about all week.

“You don’t have to wear it now to prove a point Lena. It isn’t even cold in your office,” Kara points out.

“Then I’ll turn down the thermostat.” She will. She’s not joking. Honestly she would sit here all day sweating in her scarf if it meant Kara would smile at her like that one more time. Plus, even without Kara, it really is incredibly soft and she’s always looking for a makeshift pillow for power naps between meetings.

“You really like it?” Lena picks up on the nerves in Kara’s voice with ease. She’s not sure whether it’s because she’s heard the trepidation, the need for validation, in her own far too many times, or because listening to the intonations and inflections of Kara’s voice had become second nature – perhaps even a hobby, if you will.

Either way, it’s the reason Lena finds herself standing from her chair, and circling the desk, to stand in front of Kara. It’s the reason she gathers the courage to allow her hand a place on Kara’s jaw. It’s the reason she doesn’t chicken out as she convinces herself to press a gentle kiss to Kara’s cheek, a little too close to her lips, and a little too long to be fully seen as a show of friendship.

(Later on she’ll revel in the memory of Kara’s breath catching, if only for a moment).

“I love it, honestly.”

“Okay. Good. Great. Fantastico. I should probably be going because I’m actually supposed to be interviewing one of your competitors about their new- I probably shouldn’t tell you that. Maybe we could have dinner later, if you don’t already have plans, that is? You probably have plans but if you don’t I know this place with-“

“I have no plans.” Other than mediocre take out and watching Grease 2 because Kara got her hooked (don’t even get her started on how much she hates herself for it).

“Great. Later then. I’ll text you.” Lena doesn’t expect the hug that comes next. She really should have - it was Kara Danvers, a known hugger, and it was her birthday, there was no way a hug wasn’t on the cards. It still shocks her though. It still makes her tense up at first, before Kara runs a soothing hand down her back, and she feels herself melt into the embrace.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there. She does know that she’s startled when she hears Kara softly whisper, “Happy Birthday, Lena”, into her ear. Lena squeezes tighter for a moment before she extracts herself. She doesn’t move far. She thinks if she stays close enough maybe she’ll finally do it. Maybe she’ll just bite the bullet and kiss her.

She waits too long.

Kara presses her lips against Lena’s cheek softly in parting as she promises to call her later.

Lena can still feel them that night.

(She’s pretty sure she can still feel them the next morning too).

* * *

 

The third time Kara is dressed as Supergirl.

Yes, she knows. Of course she knows. Lena Luthor is not stupid and the whole disguise was literally glasses and a ponytail. She really could have put more effort in. Lena blames Clark Kent for that one, he evidently wasn’t setting a reasonable alter ego example. She supposes it fools enough people though, which is probably where the element of Lena having spent far too much time just looking at Kara comes in.

Lena suspected Kara was Supergirl the moment she appeared alongside Clark Kent. The suspicion only grew after the ridiculous amount of times Kara said something like _I flew here_ or _it isn’t that cold_ whilst she was wearing a thin cardigan in the snow. In the end the ultimate proof came from looking at Kara.

Lena knew that the fact that their hair was the exact same shade of blonde was too insane to be a coincidence. Lena knew that it would be improbable for eyes that blue to exist on two different individuals in the exact same city. Lena was also acutely aware of the scar on Kara’s brow, the same one that could be seen on National City’s hero, the same one that she wondered about time and again - how did it come to exist, how did something manage to mar impenetrable skin?

Lena knew Kara was Supergirl because they had the same cadence. They had the same softness even if Supergirl acted like she was in charge. Lena knew because suddenly there were two people in her life that believed in her with conviction, without question, and she knew realistically that, in a town where the word Luthor was spat like a slur, those two people had to be the same.

She understood the secrecy though.

She understood why Kara hadn’t told her.

She was less sure as to why Kara was on her balcony, dressed as Supergirl, but shifting on her feet and fiddling with her fingers in the most Kara Danvers way possible. Not that she was complaining. She definitely wasn’t complaining. She’s not actually sure if there’s an instance in which she would complain about seeing Kara, especially when she’s on the receiving end of a gentle smile and a silent question of if it’s alright to enter through ‘the door that’s not actually an entrance’.

“Miss Luthor-“

“Lena, please.”

“Lena,” she says and pauses for a moment like she’s testing how it feels in her mouth. It’s an odd thing. Lena briefly wonders what it’s like to switch between identities before she’s too enamoured by the way Kara repeats her name again under her breath like she’s hearing it for the first time.

When she repeats it again Lena starts to wonder if maybe it’s something else. Something darker. There’s a certain reverence in the repetition, an edge to her tone that makes Lena take note, that makes Lena realise that it isn’t wonder that’s driving it, that it sounds like Kara is trying to memorise what it’s like to say her name. Like she’s taking the time to recall every letter, every syllable, just in case it’s the last time she gets to say it.

That thought frightens Lena more than she cares to admit.

“Supergirl, what’s wrong?” It feels weird addressing her in the tone she reserves for Kara. It feels weird keeping up this pretence when Kara looks like she’s seconds away from falling apart. She wants to hold her. She wants to soothe her. The worst thing is she doesn’t think she knows how.

“Your mother, she, she escaped prison last night.” Lena opens her mouth to reply before Kara quickly cuts back in. “Not that I’m accusing you. I’m not. There’s just been some chatter that there’s a plan in the works to break Lex out too and then come after you and I-we- the people I work with wanted to make sure you were safe.”

It was rather naive to think it all ended with Lillian being locked up. Of course they couldn’t just accept their fate and stop messing up the life Lena was trying to create. She wonders if she’ll ever escape from under the weight of her name, of her family. She wonders how long it will take for the press to arrive on her doorstep accusing her of helping or just appearing to have a field day bombarding her with questions about her feelings on the matter.

Apparently being a Luthor was a life sentence of its own.

“I’m just dandy.”

“You haven’t been threatened?” Kara steps closer, inspecting the body in front of her like she’s going to find some sign of harm. It’s subtle. Just a couple of inches. A few flicks of her eyes. If Lena wasn’t paying attention she thinks she would have missed it but she was.

She was always paying attention to Kara.

She was also paying attention to the shake in her bones when Kara took another step. All she would have to do was reach out an arm and she could touch her. She wants to touch her. She wants to hold her. She thinks maybe she could keep all of her insecurities and worries at bay if Kara would just hold her for a moment.

She doesn’t reach. She doesn’t kiss the worried crinkle on Kara’s forehead like she wants to, or the lips that are verging on a pout. She wants nothing more. But want doesn’t outweigh logic so instead she leans her hip against the desk and plasters a smirk on her lips.

“Well, now that you mention it, Jess did threaten to stop bringing me coffee. She thinks I drink too much,” Lena quips. Kara takes another purposeful step forward and Lena would be lying if she said her breath didn’t catch slightly as their hands brushed accidentally.

“Lena, this isn’t a joke. They could hurt you. They are _trying_ to hurt you and what am I going to do if that happens, how am I supposed to live with that knowing I could, and should, have stopped it? I can’t- I mean not me in particular because that would be weird, because we barely know each other, and caring that much about someone you don’t know is kinda-“

“Kara,” Lena whispers. She’s knows there’s no going back after this. But she also knows that she can’t ignore this anymore, especially not when Kara is slipping between personas, and struggling to voice her feelings without sounding like an idiot. Lena is watching Kara fumble with her words in a Supergirl suit and the combination of both sides of her personality in one place makes Lena buzz, makes Lena wonder if this is the real her - strong and vulnerable, confident and nervous, an absolute dork hidden behind bulletproof skin and a cape.

“What- that’s-pffft.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Lena says quietly because she doesn’t want it to sound like an accusation. She isn’t trying to argue. It’s not her intention to make Kara feel bad, or guilty, or like she needs to divulge it all. Lena doesn’t need to know anything. Sure she’d like to know everything there is to Kara Danvers but she can settle for this truth. She thinks it’s about time people stopped lying to each other in this city.

“No, you’re not... Lena I-“ Kara cuts off, her head whipping quickly to the side as she angles her ear towards something Lena sure as hell can’t hear. “I have to go. Not because of this. Definitely not because of this. I’m not running, I promise and we can talk about it later, there’s just a woman screaming and I-“

“Go. I’ll be here.” Kara pauses for a moment and then she’s gone like she was never in front of Lena at all.

Lena wants to kiss her again when she returns later, buzzing on adrenaline and the reality that she doesn’t have to hide anything from Lena anymore. Lena puts the rampant thoughts of her family on the back burner as she listens to Kara regurgitate every moment of her evening, and then every moment that led her to being the person she is today.

Lena wants to kiss her when she nervously explains that there may be a small chance her sister will burst into the office with SWAT, because Kara had turned her comms off the moment she finished saving the woman, and had come straight back to Lena’s office without checking in at the DEO.

Lena wants to kiss her when she moans about how long Lena is taking to sign the non-disclosure agreement. Lena wants to kiss her as she listens to her half hearted mumbling that Lena doesn’t have to read every single word on the paper. Lena wants to kiss her when she flies her back to her apartment and awkwardly shifts on her feet like she’s not sure if goodbye hugs are alright anymore.

Lena hugs her.

Lena dreams that she kisses her.

It’s not enough.

It’s never enough.

* * *

 

The next time is far less dramatic.

With Lillian firmly back in jail, cursing both her and Supergirl hopefully for the rest of her days, everything had resumed its regularly scheduled programming, which was mostly great, except for one thing - Mon-El.

He himself wasn’t so bad, Lena supposed, if you pushed past the general disregard for others and the frat boy image he seemed to accidentally be cultivating. Her real issue was with his flirting. More specifically, Lena hated when he hit on Kara in front of her, or behind her, or beside her, or just in her general vicinity.

Lena probably should have factored the flirting in when she accepted the game night invite. She should have taken the time to prepare for it. She should have worn a ‘power bitch’ outfit instead of allowing herself the comforts of jeans and a jumper. She should have shut the door in Mon-El’s face when he arrived at Kara’s apartment, or threatened him with a patented Luthor stare, or literally anything other than just smiling politely in his direction and silently withstanding the way he flirted with Kara constantly.

Thankfully she didn’t seem alone in her disdain.

James was clearly on her side. They had been sharing eye rolls over Kara’s head for the last hour or so. It took fifteen minutes of the exchange before Alex was joining in too, adding a few audible sighs for good measure. It was after Alex’s fourth sigh that Maggie had started laughing quietly, clearly clocking on to the silent conversations going on around the room.

Lena could tell that Kara was getting more and more suspicious with every passing second, more so because there was no way she didn’t hear Lena’s scoff when Mon-El came out with something even more ridiculous than his last attempt.

Lena was mostly taking solace in the fact that the general consensus that Mon-El would be terrible for Kara had led to her bonding with the group with ease. She felt comfortable enough to relax into the sofa after Alex aimed a sympathetic smile directly at her. She felt relaxed enough to shove way too many chips into her mouth at once after James released a sharp chuckle at one of her more elaborate eye rolls.

It was nice.

It was even nicer when Kara unconsciously leaned into her. It was second nature for her to lift her arm, allowing her to curl fully into her side. Lena doesn’t know when she became so open to tactile affection - probably somewhere between the first time Kara hugged her and the hundredth time she took Lena’s hand without thinking anything of it.

No one had made any comment about the new position. Lena thinks she even caught a small smile on Alex’s face when she first saw the pair, but she wasn’t about to push her luck. She was more than happy that she wasn’t the groups new eye roll target.

“Oh we should play charades!” Kara jumps up when it get particularly quiet. Lena laughs quietly to herself when she realises Mon-El had been psyching himself up to say something to her again. Maybe the flirting wasn’t so bad, especially (only) since it didn’t seem to be very well received.

“Kara, we haven’t even finished Monopoly yet,” Alex complains and Lena almost backs her up because she’s apparently amazing at the game. She can’t say she’d ever played it before. Her childhood hadn’t left much room for games but she’d quickly picked it up. Mostly because it didn’t take a genius to roll a dice and spend some money. Lena had certainly spent money before.

“Lena’s gonna win anyway. She owns all the good stuff.” Fantastic point.

“Yeah because you sold her like all of your property.” An even better point.

“She’s a good negotiator,” Kara defends, tucking herself back into Lena’s side with a pout when everyone laughs at her. Even Lena can’t help the chuckle that slips from her lips - it only gets worse when Kara attempts to glare at her for the betrayal. “ _Please._ ” It’s the puppy dog eyes that do it. It would take a god to withstand the strength of Kara Danvers with pleading eyes and a pouting mouth, hell; Lena could barely withstand Kara Danvers normally.

“Fine,” Alex concedes and Kara lets out a whoop, clearing up the board in a second before throwing herself back onto the couch with a wide grin.

“I’m on Lena’s team.”

“But-, “ Mon-El begins.

“You can be with the guys,” Kara dismisses and Lena revels in the shared smiles around the room until James realises the reality of that sentence and groans quietly to a laughing Winn.

It’s their turn before Lena has even paid enough attention to figure out the rules (she may, or may not, have been completely distracted by Kara’s excitement to actually listen when they were explained). She’s hoping she can somehow fake her way through this because Kara is bouncing on the balls of her feet, and grinning wildly, and she feels like messing this up would ruin that.

She really doesn’t want to ruin that.

Somehow she makes it through. Apparently she did really well. Well, she assumes she did well because everyone looks quietly shocked that she actually managed to pull it off and Winn had seemingly attempted to start a slow clap when their time ran out.

Also, Kara was hugging her.

Except that maybe hugging wasn’t the best term. It was more like Kara had literally thrown herself into Lena’s lap, and Lena was freaking out so much that she was struggling to breathe at a steady pace, but whatever. She’d experienced worse. Although the longer Kara stays perched on her lap, the more she questions her sanity, the more she wonders if this is supposed to feel like torture.

Her hand is resting on Kara’s thigh because that’s where it fell in the hug attack and she’d realised too late to move it without it looking weird. She can smell the raspberry body wash on Kara’s skin from that place in France she mentioned offhandedly a couple of weeks before. She can feel the heat of Kara’s breath skirting down her neck every time Kara whispers something in her ear, and she’s an inch away from whimpering every time Kara shifts and brushes against her chest.

It’s almost like she’s doing it on purpose.

Kara Danvers is killing her.

And then Lena is back to wanting to kiss her. It always comes back to Lena wanting to kiss her. She‘s kissed her a thousand times over in her head. She wishes just one could be a reality. But Kara’s her friend. And with Kara somehow came new friends, and she finally felt like she had a place in the world. She couldn’t mess that up because she had the sudden almost uncontrollable urge to kiss Kara.

That wasn’t fair.

Kara had already been given enough stick by people who liked her because she didn’t feel the same way in return. Lena wouldn’t be the same. She wouldn’t cause Kara pain. She wouldn’t. She still wants to kiss her though. For a second Kara’s eyes catch hers, then dip lower, and Lena thinks, _hopes,_ she wants to kiss her too. She squashes the thought quickly. She can’t do that to herself and she sure as hell isn’t going to do that to Kara.

She won’t cause Kara pain.

(She still wants to kiss her).

* * *

 

Lena almost kisses Kara when they go for ice cream in the park. Lena almost kisses Kara when she appears under the guise of an article for the fourth time in three days. Lena almost kisses Kara when she appears on her doorstep in a dishevelled super suit and tears in her eyes. Lena almost kisses Kara when she puts an entire waffle in her mouth in one bite. Lena almost kisses Kara because it’s Tuesday. Lena almost kisses Kara because she forgets that she’s not supposed to one morning when she awakes in Kara’s bed, in Kara’s clothes, and finds Kara in the doorway with a smile and a cup of coffee.

Lena almost kisses Kara.

Kara actually kisses Lena.

Kara kisses Lena and the world doesn’t stop turning but it tilts. It tilts so inconspicuously that she knows it means nothing to anyone else, but Lena knows that the earth has tilted. She knows that it’s off its axis, and that everything is different, that everything has changed. Kara’s kiss spreads through her body like wild fire, like a tsunami tearing over the horizon, like a hurricane through a town. It leaves nothing in its wake. Lena can feel her body falling apart from the inside out and she’s never felt more alive.

Her head is pounding. Kara draws her body closer. Her heart is thundering. Kara kisses her harder. Her stomach is whirring. Kara traces her cheekbones, and her jaw, and her neck. Her thoughts are racing. Kara hands halt at the pulse in her neck. Her blood is coursing through her veins, and she can barely breathe as Kara kisses her, and kisses her, and kisses her, and honestly she’d gladly give up breathing all together if it always meant this.

Kara Danvers kisses her brazenly, unflinchingly, wholly. Kara Danvers kisses her until she can’t remember anything else. Kara Danvers kisses her like it’s the first and last time she’ll ever get the chance. Then she turns soft. One last peck to Lena’s lips and Kara pulls away, rights her glasses, and twiddles her thumbs like she hasn’t just destroyed and rebuilt Lena’s entire world with her lips.

“I’m sorry to spring that on you. It’s just that you kept almost kissing me, or debating kissing me, or mumbling in your sleep about kissing me, or making me want to kiss you and I just- I just really needed to kiss you.” _Needed._ The word makes her shiver. Not _wanted_. _Needed._ Needed _. Kara needed._

“I-I-I...” What is she supposed to say? How is she supposed to accurately explain that she’s wanted this since the moment they met? How do you tell someone that you’ve thought about kissing them more times than your heart has beat in their presence? What do you say when you’ve thought, and thought, and thought about something and then suddenly it’s happening - it’s happening and you never, _never,_ could have imagined that it would be like that, that it would consume you?

“Did I read the signals wrong?”

“No, no, no. You- you’re...” Ineffable. Incredibly right in her assumptions.  Stupidly pretty right now, in the way that Kara is always pretty but right now, with hopeful eyes and Lena’s lipstick smudged around her mouth, Kara is beautiful. So beautiful that she was somehow the collected one in this situation. Lena can’t remember the last time she was speechless.

“Did I break you?”Maybe a little bit.

“You kissed me,” Lena states plainly because that’s all she can say, because that’s all she can think. Kara kissed her. After months of doing everything in her power to not kiss Kara. After suffering through the sheer want to kiss her time and again. After telling herself it would never happen. Kara kissed her.

All Lena can think is that Kara kissed her.

“I did,” Kara chuckles and it invigorates her. She refuses to be the bumbling mess in this situation. She’s Lena Luthor. If anyone is going to be kissed and then freak out about it, it should be Kara Danvers - especially since Lena was now one hundred percent sure that it would be a good freak-out and not the terrible one she had been dreading.

“You can kiss me again.” Lena daringly runs her hands under Kara’s shirt. She’s happy to find the supersuit is missing. Not that she couldn’t get behind _that_. She just much preferred the heat of Kara’s skin, and the hitch in her breath she’s rewarded with when blunt nails drag along soft flesh.

It’s nice to have the upper hand.

Kara’s eyelids flutter as Lena’s hand dips dangerously low.

Having the upper hand is _amazing_.

“I-I can?” Back to adorable. Perhaps less innocent than first imagined though because there’s definitely a hand on Lena’s ass, pulling their bodies closer together. She’ll take it. Adorable but bold is undoubtedly a combination that she can get behind.

“Yes. In fact, I think it would be an injustice if we weren’t to kiss again.”

“Well, I’m all about justice.” Kara shifts her hands to rest on her hips. The signature Supergirl pose makes her laugh, and then Kara’s laughing, and Lena has never felt warmer than in that moment. She has never felt more like she belongs than when Kara is laughing like she has no worries in the world, and watching Lena like she’s the very reason for the weight that has been newly lifted from her shoulders.

“You’re such a dork,” Lena says, pulling Kara securely back into her arms. Lena had dated smart, and rich, and mysterious. Lena had dated Roulette (which in hindsight was a terrible, terrible, idea). Lena had never dated a nervous, bumbling, nerd with super powers - probably because she was only aware of two of those in existence and, even ignoring the fact that the other one made her brother go insane, she was incredibly gay.

She was also half a step away from falling in love with Kara Danvers.

“Says the woman who couldn’t speak because I kissed her,” Kara points out to the soundtrack of Lena scoffing. She really needed to convince Kara not to tell this story word by word to her sister, or her friends. She’s not really sure she’s ready for the inevitable mocking that would follow, primarily because, with the likes of them on the case, the mocking would never truly cease.

“I don’t recall that.”

“Oh, well, in that case I’d be more than happy to remind you.” The next kiss is no less world tilting than the last. Lena suspects that will be the case for quite some time. She doesn’t mind. Kara can shift her entire world view anytime she likes.

Lena won’t complain.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up: c--and--b.tumblr.com


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